#techvsart

We need to talk about Ai.

People keep saying AI is going to hurt artists, that it'll stop us from making a living. But let's be honest here: Do you really believe artists were thriving before AI showed up? Believe me, we weren’t. We didn’t need AI to be undervalued, underpaid, and pushed to the margins. That was already happening, and it’s been happening for a long time, and no one, absolutely no one cared.

Photographers have been told for years that they charge too much "just to press a button," as if their time, vision, and editing skills weren’t worth anything. “Oh I could do it with my phone” was a recurrent saying.

Painters and illustrators were expected to work “for exposure,” or undersell their craft on overcrowded platforms. Writers were told to churn out content like machines, musicians were asked to perform for free because it’s “great promotion.” AI didn’t start this devaluation.

Where was the outcry when, in the late '90s and early 2000s, anyone with a computer and an internet connection could suddenly download music, books, and movies for free? People were too busy filling their hard drives with the latest hit singles and entire discographies, because it was easy, and most importantly, it was free.

Napster, LimeWire, torrent sites were seen as revolutionary, cool, rebellious even. But while users got everything for nothing, artists were left with scraps. AI wasn’t around back then. It was still science fiction. And yet, somehow, we were already being asked to give everything we made away for free, while big companies found ways to keep making money off of us anyway.

And where was the outrage when governments around the world started slashing culture budgets left and right? Suddenly, art was no longer seen as essential. Politicians called it a luxury, a waste of taxpayer money. "Why should my taxes pay for some weird art installation or a gallery show no one goes to?" they said. And way too many people nodded along.

Just walk into an exhibition where you live. I guarantee you’ll hear someone muttering that the entry fee is too high, or complaining that the event should be free. We’re expected to work for the love of it and thank people for their pity likes.

No one saw it coming or rather, no one wanted to see it. The few who warned us about the digital turnover were dismissed as conspiracy theorists, loonies, or just plain ignorant. But they weren’t wrong. They saw what was happening: a slow, quiet dismantling of how art, media, and culture were valued and appreciated.

People were too excited about the convenience. And honestly, who can blame them? Suddenly, you could fit your entire music collection, movie library, bookshelf, and camera into one sleek device. Everything was just a tap away and often, free or ridiculously cheap. It felt like progress. It was progress. But it came at a price we’re only now beginning to understand.

But here’s the part no one wants to talk about,  the part that stings: art wasn’t devalued by some outside force. It was devalued by us. By everyday people making selfish, comfortable choices.

By a culture that prized convenience over conscience. By the collective shrug we gave every time we streamed without paying, downloaded without crediting, expected work for free, or thought "well, it’s just art."

Now, with AI looming large, suddenly everyone is clutching their pearls as if this machine alone broke the system. But AI is just the latest scapegoat. It’s easier to blame the tech than to face the truth that we allowed this to happen. That we liked what the erosion of value gave us: fast access, endless content, and no obligation to care where it came from.

Instead of asking how we got here, instead of looking at our behavior over the last 25 years  we point at the machine and “using AI is bad” But AI is just a tool. And only a fool blames the tool.

So maybe instead of just blaming the tech, we should also look at the culture that made it inevitable. And maybe  just maybe  we can still choose to do better. To value art not because it’s trending, or instant, or "smart," but because it’s human.

William sits still, lost in notifications, bored and distant.

"To be or not?" faded on Twitter threads, drowned in comments.

Romeo waits, Juliet has blocked her DMs, "Do not disturb!"

Macbeth sighs, Bitcoin has crashed again, no witches left.

Word document blinks, AI editor suggests: "A softer ending?"

Shakespeare stares, at a glowing screen, no ink, no paper.